


Sylvain And The Scarecrow

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Evil Scarecrows, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 14:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20292718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Sylvain finds a personal object in Dorothea's bags, she wants revenge. And what better way to get revenge than to get a group of friends together, magically animate a scarecrow, and then force it to hit on Sylvain?





	Sylvain And The Scarecrow

“Hey,” Sylvain said, winking at Dorothea. “I couldn’t help but notice all those heavy bags you were carrying. Would you like some help?” He grabbed one of the bags.

“You know, I actually wouldn’t mind,” said Dorothea. “However, if this is one of your schemes to get an ‘in’ with me…”

“Of course not!” said Sylvain. “I sincerely want to help.” He grabbed another bag, almost dropping it. “Wow, these _are_ heavy. What’s in these things?”

“Rocks,” said Dorothea dryly. “Let’s go to the monastery. I need to take them to my room.”

“Got it.”

* * *

“Hey, Bernadetta!” said Sylvain, managing to wave despite carrying two bags. “Looking cute today!”

Bernadetta’s eyes widened, and she stood still for but a moment. Immediately, she ran off, squealing.

“Nice,” said Dorothea.

“What? I just said she looked cute.”

* * *

“Hey, Ingrid!” said Sylvain, finding Ingrid standing on the grassy field next to the dorms.

“Sylvain,” she said, “I need to talk with you.”

“I’d love to talk!” said Sylvain. “But first I need to deliver these bags to Dorothea’s room.”

“Yeah, he’s with me,” said Dorothea. “Let him go for now.”

“Fine,” said Ingrid. “But I do need to talk to you about your actions earlier.”

Sylvain shrugged. “Got it.”

He and Dorothea made their way to her room, the two of them dropping the bags gently at the foot of her bed.

“Thanks,” said Dorothea.

“What are in these things, anyway?” asked Sylvain.

“None of your business.”

“I think it is. I carried them all the way here.”

Dorothea frowned. “Fine, girly things. Makeup, dresses, chocolates.”

“Why were you hiding that from me?”

She shrugged, but a slight blush adorned her face. “No reason.”

“Wait,” said Sylvain, grinning and looking in one of the bags. “Is that what I think it is?”

“No!” cried Dorothea. “Sylvain, I swear to Serios if you touch _anything_ in that bag I will-”

Ingrid peeked in. “Is everything okay in here?”

Dorothea and Sylvain looked at one another, then Ingrid.

“Yes, everything is _fine_. I was just asking Sylvain to leave.”

“Sheesh.” Sylvain raised his hands defensively. “I was just asking. I don’t see what the big deal is. I have some of those myself, if you must know. Perfect for if a lady comes around my dorm.”

“GET OUT!”

Sylvain wasn’t stupid – he could read the room. And in this room was a very, _very_ irate Dorothea. He quickly exited the room and she locked it as soon as he left. He sighed quite loudly and then went over to Ingrid, who raised an eyebrow.

“Come on,” she said. “We need to go someplace private anyway.”

“Oh?” Sylvain grinned.

She rolled her eyes and started walking; he followed.

* * *

“So,” said Sylvain. “Why’d you call me here? Is it about the ladies? Have I been flirting too much lately? I can’t say I’ll tone it down, but…”

“Sylvain.”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“It’s exactly that – I keep having to clean up your messes! You flirt with a woman, she gets angry, and it’s up to me to soothe things over. Well, I’ve had it. So I’m letting you know that I’m not saving you next time.”

Sylvain shrugged. “Fine by me. Long as I still get to flirt with the ladies.” He said the last word suavely, elongating the _ay_ part, and Ingrid rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she said. “It’s your funeral.”

“It’s a great way to die!” countered Sylvain as Ingrid left the room.

* * *

Ingrid, Dorothea, Mercedes, Lysithea and Bernadetta all stood in Ingrid’s room. Ingrid clanged the back of a pan with a metal cooking spoon.

_Clang, clang, clang!_

“Attention!” Ingrid said. “The third meeting of the Sylvain Revenge Club has begun. For our first act of business, we will try and humiliate Sylvain. Again. I have tried to talk some sense into him, but he resists still – and more importantly, leaves me with messes to clean up. I have told him I won’t clean them up anymore, but it appears that wasn’t enough. I obviously can’t let him die, least of all to an angry maiden, so I’m clearly not going to actually stop helping him, but…”

Bernadetta grabbed a cookie and began munching on it.

Ingrid sighed. “I just want the best for him. And to stop him from making messes I have to clean up!”

“Why don’t you do as you said and stop cleaning up his messes?” asked Dorothea. “It’d teach him a lesson.”

“He would probably die.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Once, I saw a woman that appeared to be in some military group with a giant sword taped to her back, asking politely to find him so she could shred his intestines.”

“Wow,” said Lysithea. “That’s actually kind of impressive.”

Dorothea stared. “Sheesh,” she said after a moment. “What does he _do_ to these women? He never made me want to come after him with a sword.”

Ingrid shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“He has not made any advances at me that resulted in me wishing for his death,” agreed Mercedes. “I just wish for him to find the path of the Goddess.” She paused. “Or, perhaps, to at least show up to pray more often. That is why I am here.”

Bernadetta grabbed another cookie.

“Bernie,” said Ingrid. “Do you have any ideas? You’re in the club, so you _have_ to contribute.”

“I-I just… I come here for the food,” she said sheepishly. “It’s really delicious.”

“Oh, thank you!” said Mercedes. “I used gourmet chocolates in those. They cost a pretty penny, but it was worth it to see your face light up!”

Bernadetta’s face paled. “Y-you spent a lot of money on these? A-and I’ve been eating them so carelessly! Ack! I’m so sorry! I’ll just leave n-“

“Now, hang on!” said Ingrid. “No one’s leaving until we have found a way to push our ‘stop being weird’ agenda on Sylvain.”

“Agreed,” said Dorothea. “I still want revenge on him for the other day.” She shivered.

“Oh, I knew I would end up being a hostage someday…” said Bernadetta.

Ingrid sighed. “Can we focus on the topic at hand? I just want Sylvain to maybe question his choices for but a moment. Is that too much to ask? Does anyone have any ideas?”

“W-what if the person he hit on wasn’t a woman?” asked Mercedes. “We could dress up a cow with a wig, and he would probably try and seduce it!” She giggled.

Dorothea raised her eyebrows. “I feared what you were going to say after that first sentence. But I don’t think that will work – Sylvain’s much too smart to try and make out with a dummy, much less a cow.”

An evil glint appeared in Lysithea eyes. “What if the dummy moved?”

“Moved?” Mercedes asked. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Well,” said Lysithea, “what if we animated it?”

“I like where this is going,” said Ingrid. “Go on.”

“A normal humanoid object doesn’t move – obviously. But if you infuse a little bit of magic into it…” She motioned her hand grasping.

Everyone stared at her.

“Ugh, I’m clearly asking for something _to animate_! Please find me an object.”

“I have a lance,” said Ingrid.

“Something harmless. Like a hairbrush.”

“I have this hairbrush,” said Dorothea, handing it to Lysithea.

“Perfect,” said Lysithea, grinning. She waved her fingers, and the hairbrush began dancing around.

“Wow!” said Mercedes. “That’s amazing!”

“Indeed,” said Ingrid. “But can you make it talk? Sylvain is stupid, but he’s not _that_ stupid.”

“Sure,” said Lysithea. “But we have to give it an explicit set of instructions for it to function correctly with a pseudo-consciousness. For instance…” She snapped her fingers, and the hairbrush faced her. “Brush Ingrid’s hair.”

“What?!” cried Ingrid.

But it was too late. The hairbrush had begun magically brushing Ingrid’s hair.

“ACK!” cried Ingrid. “Ow, ow, ow! Make it stop, make it stop!”

“Fine,” said Lysithea. She grabbed the hairbrush. “Stop.”

The hairbrush went limp.

“Errmazhing,” whispered Bernadetta, a cookie in her mouth.

“Chew your food,” Dorothea chided.

“Eeep!” said Bernadetta. She swallowed. “Okay.”

“Perfect,” said Ingrid. “We will put a wig on it and he will try and woo it, humiliating him and forcing him to rethink his actions.”

“But where are we to get a dummy?” asked Lysithea. “Sylvain isn’t stupid enough to be attracted to anything without breasts.”

Mercedes looked at Lysithea sternly.

“What? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“I-I have an idea,” said Bernadetta. “We could use the scarecrow from the monastery. Would that work?”

Lysithea took on an evil grin. “It would.”

* * *

All the girls were huddled near the scarecrow. It was a rather basic scarecrow, with no mouth and beady little eyes, a stuffed torso and legs, and a gross little scarecrow hat.

“Okay,” said Lysithea, “first off, we need a voice donor. It will mimic your voice, and that’s how it’ll lure Sylvain in.”

“Mercedes,” said Dorothea.

“Mercedes,” said Ingrid.

“I volunteer!” said Mercedes chipperly. “I do have a rather airy voice.” She giggled. “Now, how do I help?”

“You just did,” said Lysithea. “It will now mimic your voice.”

“Oh,” said Mercedes. “That was easy.”

“Now, for the moment of truth…” She waved her fingers, and the scarecrow’s head rose. “What are my commands?” it asked in a voice eerily like Mercedes’s.

“My goodness,” said Mercedes. “It sounds just like me!”

“Yes, I told you that was part of the spell,” said Lysithea. “Now, scarecrow, your name is, uh…” She looked around. There were flowers on the grass. A very pretty rose was blooming nearby.

“Rose. Your name is Rose.”

“My name is Rose,” said the scarecrow.

“You want nothing more than to seduce Sylvain.”

“Who’s Sylvain?” asked Rose the scarecrow.

“A redheaded man that likes to hit on women.”

The scarecrow nodded. “I understand. I am Rose, and I will attract and woo Sylvain, who is to be my lover.”

“Perfect.” She snapped her fingers, and then the scarecrow was enveloped in a magic light for a moment.

Immediately, the light dissipated. The scarecrow looked the same but had Mercedes’s long hair.

“What in the Goddess’s name is that?!” cried Ingrid. “It has Mercedes’s hair!”

“I am Rose,” said the scarecrow, “and I am in love with Sylvain. If you’ll excuse me.” It gently got off its pole and began to wobble towards the location Sylvain was at, as if guided by some magic homing system.

“This isn’t going to end well,” said Ingrid. “Should we stop it?”

“We’ve gone this far already,” said Lysithea. “Might as well keep going.”

“I don’t like this,” said Ingrid. “Let’s stop it.”

“Let me rephrase,” Lysithea said. “I physically cannot stop it until it completes its mission.”

Ingrid paled. “What.”

“You didn’t tell us that!” cried Bernadetta. “What if he doesn’t find it attractive? It _is_ a scarecrow!”

“He must,” said Lysithea. “For the sake of all of us…”

* * *

Sylvain was smooth-talking a woman when the scarecrow made its way up to him. Predictably, the woman screamed and ran away.

“Hey,” said Sylvain. “I was wooing that lady!”

“Didn’t seem like you were doing a good job,” said Rose cheerily in Mercedes’s voice.

Sylvain frowned. “Mercedes? Is that you?” He looked the scarecrow up and down. "Do I dare ask the obvious?"

“Will me saying ‘yes’ to that question result in sex with you?”

“Sex with…” Sylvain took a step backwards. “Mercedes, you’re a… you’re a…”

“Beautifully good-looking goddess?” Rose asked, winking. “A damsel with a lust for you? A sex machination? All valid answers.”

“I was going to say ‘a scarecrow,’” Sylvain murmured. “What happened to you?”

“What happened isn’t important,” said Rose. “What’s important is that you need to sleep with me.”

“B-but… But you’re a scarecrow!”

“Is that all you can focus on? Wow, I do find you remarkably attractive when you’re hyper-fixated on a superficial component of me.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Sylvain frowned. “Well, whatever. I’m sorry, but I can’t get over…” He gestured at Rose’s body. “…whatever you’ve got going on. Can we even sleep with each other? Is that possible? I feel like you’re missing some very vital parts.”

“Oh, is that all that’s important to you?” The scarecrow shone with a white light. Suddenly, the light dissipated. The scarecrow resembled Mercedes – down to a T. Her hair, her body, her organs, her skin… Everything was there.

“Mercedes!” said Sylvain. “It really is you! But why were you a scarecrow?”

“Does it matter?” Rose said in a husky voice, her hands on her hips. “Because all I want is _you_, and nothing will get in my way.”

“W-wow, Mercedes. I never knew… I don’t really know what’s going on, but I have to say, I _like_ it.” He whispered the last part in her ear.

“As do I,” said Rose, trailing a finger down Sylvain’s chest. “Let’s find a place a little more private, eh?”

Sylvain’s face was red-hot. “Y-yeah, I…” He frowned. “N-no,” he said, pushing Rose away. “I won’t.”

“What?” asked the scarecrow. “Why not?!”

“I respect you too much as my friend to have sex with you, especially when you’re clearly in some sort of weird trance. I’m sorry, but I won’t.”

Mercedes, Ingrid, Lysithea, and Bernadetta were all hidden from view, but they could hear every word of this conversation.

“That’s so sweet…” whispered Mercedes. “I wouldn’t expect that from him.”

“Oh, so it’s my appearance you dislike?” asked the scarecrow. “I can change it.”

Sylvain’s eyes widened. “Wait, wh-”

In a flash, the scarecrow’s form resembled Ingrid. She put one hand on her hip. “Do I look appealing now?”

Her voice was still Mercedes’s, which made the whole situation even more bizarre.

“No!” cried Sylvain. “What did you just do? And that’s even worse! I’ve known Ingrid since we were children – so, no, I’m not… W-what the hell just happened?”

“I changed my appearance to resemble someone I thought you might be attracted to. Are you not attracted to Ingrid?”

“Well, uh…” By this point, Sylvain’s cheeks were burning. “T-that’s beyond any point that’s relevant! What are you?”

“I told you,” said the scarecrow, “I am now Ingrid. But I could be someone else. Who would you like me to be?”

“Not Ingrid, that’s for certain!” said Sylvain. “What’s going on?”

“Do you think we should step in?” whispered Bernadetta.

Dorothea, meanwhile, was laughing so hard her face was red, struggling to keep her voice under control. She shook her head – she wanted to see more of whatever this was.

“What about now?” asked Rose, transforming into Bernadetta – still with Mercedes’s voice, an even odder combination.

“NO!” cried Sylvain. “She’s… not my type!”

“So, your friends are off-limits…” The scarecrow grinned, and then it transformed into Professor Manuela in a flash. “Then how about the faculty?”

Sylvain looked away. “I… It wouldn’t be right.”

“But it would feel so good, wouldn’t it? Just imagine the _sensations_…” Her hands grabbed ahold of Sylvain’s and guided them to her chest.

“Why are you doing this to me?” groaned Sylvain. “Please, just leave me alone.”

“My purpose is to have sex with you,” Rose said. “I will not leave until this happens.”

Sylvain’s face turned to one of confusion. “Pardon?”

“Dammit,” muttered Ingrid.

“Lysithea, Ingrid, Dorothea, and Bernadetta have instructed me to have sex with you as revenge for…” Rose frowned. “I am not certain of what, exactly. But they want me to make love to you.”

“So,” said Sylvain, “this is all a scheme to humiliate me, right?” He thought about this. “Did they know you could turn into other people? Giving me access to a magic creature that can shapeshift seems like it would result in anything but humiliation.”

“Negative,” said the scarecrow. “They thought you would be seducing a pile of hay.”

Sylvain grinned. “In that case – yes, mimic Ingrid.”

Rose nodded, and in a moment resembled Ingrid.

“Can you change your voice to match hers?”

“Negative. I can only use the voice of one that has spoken to me.”

“Ingrid _has_ spoken to you if she helped make you. She never shuts up.”

“Hey!” muttered Ingrid under her breath.

“That’s true!” said the scarecrow, now utilizing Ingrid’s voice. “I sound just like her, do I not?”

Sylvain grinned and grabbed Rose’s arm.

Rose blushed and looked away.

“Hey, Ingrid!” said Sylvain, looking around. “I know you’re listening. If you can hear me, I’m about to make love to this scarecrow that has your face! If you don’t reveal yourself right now, I’m going to do it – I’m warning you!”

Ingrid _immediately_ jumped out of her hiding spot. “Fine!” she cried. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you feel bad – you talk to so many women, but you never feel anything for any of them! But I was wrong. You feel for me. You feel for Bernie. You feel for professor Manuela… probably. I was wrong to force this weird scarecrow abomination on you.”

“Yes, you were.” Sylvain frowned and released the hand of the scarecrow. “But I really don’t want to have sex with this _thing_. I’d rather make love to the real Ingrid.”

Ingrid’s eyes widened, but she said nothing. A faint blush spread across her cheeks. “Sylvain…”

“What?”

“Watch out!”

Ingrid dove at Sylvain as Rose slammed her fist into his face. Ingrid wasn’t fast enough, and it just resulted in her landing on an injured Sylvain’s chest.

“Uh, hi,” said Sylvain, forcing a smile.

“Hi,” said Ingrid, smiling and breathing heavily.

“Thanks for saving me back there,” he said.

“No sweat.”

“Is the scarecrow still trying to kill us?”

“Yep.”

Both rolled out of the way as the scarecrow dove at the two of them.

“If I can’t have you,” the scarecrow said, her eye twitching, “_no one_ can! Hah hah. Hahaha!”

“Sorry, I should have mentioned they tend to go crazy when you leave them alive for too long,” said Lysithea, making note of Dorothea and Mercedes’s angry stares. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? It wasn’t vital information until now.”

Ingrid punched the scarecrow in the nose. A solid hit, and Ingrid’s face on the scarecrow appeared to have been damaged, but Rose was… smiling.

The scarecrow grinned, reforming the nose back to its former shape in a matter of seconds. Blood trickled down its nose. “Nice try,” it said. “I am invincible - a result of the magic Lysithea used to create me. Now, you will die as well, Ingrid!” Its form shifted to that of Raphael, and then it was about to slam into Ingrid, when-

“Agh!” Rose cried suddenly, arching its back, aflame. “No, no, no! Fire!” It fell on the ground, squirming as the flames took ahold of her. “Argh… How did you know what I was weak to…?”

“You’re a scarecrow, idiot,” said Lysithea. “It wasn’t hard.”

Rose shriveled up, now a burnt husk. “Augh…”

“Well,” said Sylvain, walking over to the dead scarecrow husk. “I hadn’t expected any of that to happen.”

“Yes, well…” Lysithea looked over her nails, walking out of the hiding place. “You can thank me later.”

Ingrid looked at Lysithea. “Thank you? You almost killed us!”

“It was your own fault! Be careful what you wish for and whatnot.”

Ingrid purposefully ignored this. “Well, I’m glad everything is back to normal now. Sylvain, will you at least stop trying to flirt a little less?”

“Trying?” he asked. “Who said I was _trying?_” But he looked at Ingrid, and his features softened. “Fine. But only because you asked me to, Ingrid.”

“I can’t say I was expecting to hear myself say such vulgar things today,” said Mercedes, walking over to the scarecrow. “I’m going to have to pray extra hard this week to wash out all the filth!”

Dorothea looked between the two of them. “I think this calls for a meeting of the ‘Sylvain Revenge Club.’”

“The _what_ club?” asked Sylvain.

“It was the club that started this incident,” said Bernadetta. “They have cookies – want to join?”

Sylvain shrugged. “Sure, if they have cookies.”

And so, all of them became good friends throughout the next year, meeting in the Sylvain Revenge Club weekly to eat cookies and chat amongst one another.

All was well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Anomalocaris for helping me beta this story!
> 
> Yes, I am aware of how stupid this story is.


End file.
